


The Day Orihara Izaya Messed Up

by seor1324333



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, ends up being more of a character study?, i really don't know okay, i tried not to get too excited about the meta but alas, there's really no plot at all to this, this started out as one thing months ago and then i just wrote the second half in one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seor1324333/pseuds/seor1324333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izaya throws up his arms and twirls around, his coat pocket thumping with the weight of his phone against his leg, the world spinning and spinning and throwing the stars themselves into disarray.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, all ready to come face me and kill me. He’s going to fight me like the beast he is and go straight for my heart. I’ve always wondered at the shape of it; will it be much different from the heart of a human? All muscle and arteries and rich, rich blood. Are even monsters made of the same red stuff?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stops then, but the world spins on without him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh Shizu-chan, you’re going to kill me, and I’m going to murder you.” He stands up straight, his head light but ever calm and clear. “And the whole of Ikebukuro will be our battlefield, its citizens the spectators to my orchestra. And when the dust has settled and the world is crumbling, you and I will have raised the greatest monster from our joined slumber.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day Orihara Izaya Messed Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scarletwater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletwater/gifts).



> i started writing this for my friend over the summer when we planned to write fics together as a writing exercise, and never really expected to finish it. but it's been a few months and i haven't stayed up all night to write in ages, so i might as well post this 
> 
> hope you'll enjoy this nellie, what with your insanely busy ass schedule :p

It’s a moonless night in Ikebukuro, and Orihara Izaya, like the city around him, does not sleep. He paces past brightly lit storefronts, stepping lightly around hordes of early night partygoers and the occasional harried employee. A warm breeze sweeps past, scattering apart the notes of the tuneless melody he hums to himself, and along with the cacophony of cars careening by and the hum of background chatter, Izaya feels not unlike a conductor at the heart of his own personal symphony.

 

He glances periodically down at his phone, tapping mindlessly away at the darkened screen until it finally lights up, his lips turning up into a smirk at the sight of his caller. He brings the speaker to his ear, and suddenly the world goes quiet, leaving Izaya alone with nothing but the ragged breathing of the man on the other end of the line.

 

“ _IZAYA YOU FUCKING SCUM I WILL FUCKING END YOU._ ”

 

“Good evening, Shizu-chan,” Izaya responds cheerfully, skipping from the pavement to the road and ignoring the car screeching to a halt right beside him.

 

“ _YOU FUCKING SHITHEAD I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB AND CRUSH YOUR SKULL INTO –_ ”

 

A truck passes by, its rumbling momentarily muffling the enraged yelling of the man on the other line.

 

“Yes, yes,” Izaya says, hopping up stone steps and gliding down the railing to land lightly on his feet.

 

“ – _AND STRING THEM ALONG THE OVERPASSES FOR EVERYONE TO SEE_.”

 

“Sounds great, Shizu-chan. Really looking forward to it. But before we get to that, don’t you think there’s something you have to do first?”

 

“ _FUCK YOU AND YOUR MIND GAMES I’M IN NO MOOD FOR YOUR MANIPULATIVE SHIT IZAYA._ ”

 

Izaya sighs melodramatically. “I _mean_ , Shizu-chan, if you don’t find me first, how are you going to beat me up and tear me into pieces? Last time I checked, I have quite an easy time blending into our lovely city and keeping out of your reach. I seem to recall our last encounter, and your rather appalling way with maps.”

 

“Shut up Izaya I know how to use maps. It just didn’t help that you hacked your way into my app.”

~~~~

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I outwitted that Neanderthal brain of yours Shizu-chan. Well, I’ll be waiting for that brilliant mind of yours to catch up sometime in the next, say, half an hour? I’m a busy man, as you know. So let’s say, the coffee shop at the plaza where the Dollars first had their meeting? No need to change apparel, your bartender wear is formal enough for the two of us.”

 

“Go to hell,” Shizuo growls. “This isn’t a date Izaya, I’m being serious here. You messed with something you shouldn’t have. That was fucking low even by your standards.”

 

“Oh, if there’s anyone who knows just how serious a person you are, Shizu-chan, it’s me. I’ll be looking forward to witnessing your severity again in person.”

 

“Dammit Izaya I told you I wasn’t joking –”

 

“Yup, yup, you’re a serious man, we got that. So Lin's Coffee Shop in thirty? Don’t be late then~”

 

And Izaya promptly hangs up, shutting off Shizuo’s voice so that once again the world roars into being, filling Izaya’s mind with heedless chatter and distant music. He stuffs his phone into his coat pocket and throws his head up to the night sky above.

 

“Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, ever the same, hmm? Even after all these years. You’d think even a monster would’ve learned to blend in with the humans by now.”

 

He looks down, and his grin, ever present throughout his conversation with the one man who never failed to entertain him, turns ever so wistful. Around him, the citizens of Ikebukuro scurry by, faces blurred in their anonymity, voices distorted and discordant. They pay no heed to the man in the winter coat on a summer night, and he pities them in return. Before long, he is alone on an empty sidewalk along a darkened street, with no one to witness him but the stars above.

 

Izaya throws up his arms and twirls around, his coat pocket thumping with the weight of his phone against his leg, the world spinning and spinning and throwing the stars themselves into disarray.

 

“Shizu-chan, Shizu-chan, all ready to come face me and kill me. He’s going to fight me like the beast he is and go straight for my heart. I’ve always wondered at the shape of it; will it be much different from the heart of a human? All muscle and arteries and rich, rich blood. Are even monsters made of the same red stuff?”

 

He stops then, but the world spins on without him.

 

“Oh Shizu-chan, you’re going to kill me, and I’m going to murder you.” He stands up straight, his head light but ever calm and clear. “And the whole of Ikebukuro will be our battlefield, its citizens the spectators to my orchestra. And when the dust has settled and the world is crumbling, you and I will have raised the greatest monster from our joined slumber.”

 

 

 

Shizuo arrives five minutes early, as tall and imposing as ever, and his body trembles with what Izaya suspects not to be the rage from his earlier phone call, but rather… weariness? Exhaustion? The information broker frowns, pushing away his cup of coffee until it balances precariously on the edge of the table, and rises to meet his rival.

 

“Shizu-chan,” he calls cheerily, noting the way the other man’s shoulders slump at the greeting. _You look like crap,_ he neglects to say. “You’re early~”

 

Shizuo walks up to his table and reaches over, not to push away the cup of coffee in a fit of violence like Izaya was counting on, but instead picking it up and downing the content in one gulp. Izaya raises an eyebrow.

 

“Shall we sit down and have ourselves a tea party before we start? Eat some finger-cut sandwiches and butter up some croissants?”

 

Shizuo smashes the cup on the ground.

 

_That’s better_ , Izaya thinks, and smiles.

 

“You know, I’m surprised you’ve arrived here in one piece. You sounded so worked up over the phone I was expecting you to have dozed over half the city in your hurry.” He gestures around them lazily. “Well as you can see, we’ve got all the tables and street poles that a muscled freak like you could possibly want. Windows too for you to smash, by the dozen.”

 

“Izaya…” Shizuo rubs at his temple. “Has anyone ever told you you never shut up?”

 

Izaya smirks. “I’m told it’s one of my charm points.”

 

“You _have_ no charm points.”

 

Izaya chooses not to deign him with a response.

 

“So, Shizu-chan, wasn’t there something you wanted from me? If it’s a fight you’re looking for, you know I’m always here to provide. In fact, it’s been quite a while since our last scrimmage. I was starting to think there was something wrong with your -”

 

Shizuo interrupts him. “I know you tried to mess with my brother.”

 

Izaya trails off in the middle of his smooth tirade. “Excuse me?”

 

Shizuo’s hands have returned to his temples. He breathes out, slowly.

 

“Look, I don’t have time for this, alright? I just came here to tell you to fuck off, you’ve won, or whatever it is you want to hear in this depraved game of yours. After I’ve sorted out this mess and cleared up Kasuka’s name we’re getting out of here, if only to get out of the spotlight for a while. I don’t envy what the press and the public are going to put him through after this, and I’m not going to let myself spend my days loitering around someone’s backdoor while my brother gets persecuted for something he did not do. So. There you have it. Congratulations, or whatever. You’ve won, the city’s yours, you can deal with the gangs as you wish, find some other hapless fool to make into your chewing toy. I’m leaving, and I’d say something touching about fond memories or treasured times except both you and I know what I’d really be telling you is for you to go fuck yourself.”

 

Izaya is frozen, an uncharacteristic stillness settled over him.

 

“The farewell party’s already been held, a drunken Shinra proposed a second honeymoon to Celty and Walker may have set a few things on fire when you were brought up. Oh, and you’ll have to ask your secretary about those missing funds and the changed passwords on some of your accounts, I think she said something about a salary raise. One more thing. The Yellow Scarves’ boy is going to be coming after your head and you might want to watch out this time because he’s got the Saika girl on his side. Frankly, I’d wish him good luck except you’ll probably end up bringing the whole police force to the doors of every single relative of his that’s residing in the continent. It’s what you do, isn’t it.”

 

Izaya finally manages a frown.

 

“Shizu –”

 

“Anyway, that’s all that I came here to say.” The man in the bartender suit turns around, sending a two-fingered wave over his shoulder. He starts walking away, without a final word or even a last glance back. Izaya’s frown deepens. For once in his life, he cannot seem to be able to form the words he’s thinking, much less string together any coherent thoughts in the first place. He’s almost glad the other man is not looking at him right now, not when he is so close to calling out to his retreating back.

 

 

 

 

Half a square away, a pair of matching heads duck behind a pillar. One of them clicks rapidly on the camera function of their phone, while the other picks up her phone to dial at the numbers, giggling as she did so. Her call is picked up the moment it gets through.

 

“See, what did we tell you? You should see him right now, he looks so stricken I bet you could throw a lamppost at him and he wouldn’t even dodge.”

 

“Shh…” her twin admonishes, “he’ll hear you.” Mairu waves away her concern.

 

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay, but we were right, alright? We got him this time, and it was so easy too, I can’t believe we didn’t see this earlier. You could send a bus hurtling towards the guy and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash, and here he is the only time I’ve ever seen him so _lost_. What? Do we need a reason to mess with him? He’s our stupid nii-chan, what other reason is there. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy this either. It’s not like your fights ever end up with anything but damaged property and wounded egos from both sides. But now that we’ve confirmed Orihara Izaya’s most carefully hidden weakness, a secret he himself is probably not even aware of at this time, we can do whatever it is we like with the man.”

 

“It’s prime manipulation material, without Izaya-nii even aware he’s being manipulated,” Kururi adds softly.

 

“Exactly. So aren’t you glad we came to you with such an ingenuous plan? I’d be quite astonished myself, if I didn’t know that my dearest Kuru-nee came up with it. She really is the smartest person a person can know.”

 

“We both came up with it,” Kururi mutters, a tinge of red on her cheeks. Mairu pats her affectionately.

 

“Oh, right now? He’s taken his phone out, seems to be calling somebody. Maybe if we move closer – oh alright Kuru-nee. We should’ve picked a better place to hide, we’re practically in the open here anyway.”

 

“Izaya-nii looks mad,” Kururi notes with mild interest.

 

“As mad as he’ll ever look,” Mairu agrees.

 

“So just… vaguely annoyed?”

 

“He _looks_ like he’s making threats. I can usually tell because he’s got that blissful smirk on his face. Huh? Trust me, you’d know the one if you saw it. Also, he’s getting really weird looks from the passersby around him. I think if he was a yell-y person, he’d be yelling right about now.”

 

Kururi pulls her twin back as their brother’s eyes sweep across the plaza. They peek back out again, as he lowers his phone to frown at it, before rapidly typing in another number.

 

“What are we going to do now? Well this is only the start of the plan, of course, we’ve only just confirmed our suspicions. Now all we have to do is to get him to– what? Yes, of course we thought of that, we’d hardly set this plan in motion without letting our pawns know of their expected roles. We were raised by the self-proclaimed Machiavelli reincarnate himself, we know how to get people to do what we want, often of their own desire. Like I said, who doesn’t want to mess with Orihara Izaya even just a little? Huh? Does it matter if this will ruin him professionally?”

 

“If there was danger of that, this plan would’ve died out before it was even conceived,” Kururi points out.

 

“Exactly. The only reason this will work is because our dear older brother is surprisingly blind to parts of himself he thinks he has so much knowledge and control over. I don’t know if he even knows it, but he really is his own enemy. And what better way to drag a man down than to exploit his one attachment, the guilty pleasure he seems to thrive and delight on? Us Orihara’s tend to be pretty messed up emotionally, but at least Kuru-nee and I are fully aware of our desires and vices, and are fully committed to living them out. Izaya-nii does the latter without being aware of anything apart from his favorite belief that he is different from the rest of us.”

 

“He’s leaving, should we follow him or leave him for now?”

 

“What? We know Yuhei-san isn’t in trouble. Don’t worry, we set a few pieces in place to keep nii-chan running in circles for a bit. If we’re right he’ll be just a bit more impatient and a bit more distressed than usual, so instead of digging to the bottom of things he’ll probably think the news he’s searching for is just being hidden really well. If all goes well and he calls who we think he’s going to call, he should be in a mildly panicked state without understanding or wanting to acknowledge the source of his distress.”

 

“Poor Izaya-nii, bereft of his favorite chew toy,” Kururi says softly, so that only her twin can hear. Mairu giggles, placing her hand over the receiver.

 

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. He’ll probably be so relieved you’re not leaving he won’t even bother to exact some half-hearted vengeance. Actually, for Erika-san’s sake, could you film the final confrontation? Eh? No, of course it has nothing to do with Erika-san’s perverted obsession with yaoi scenes. Walker-san would probably be interested too. There’s no pornographic attribute at allmmmmfph –”

 

Kururi picks the phone from her sister’s hand. “We just want hard evidence of the day Orihara Izaya loses to the machinations of two little girls and his eternal rival. Imagine the one person who tries so hard to distance himself from the humanity he claims to love so dearly, brought down by the very thing he believes sets him apart from everyone else. Isn’t this why you agreed to this, Shizuo-san? Even you want to see Izaya-nii brought down a few notches. And if not that, then wouldn’t you want to confirm just once and for all just what it is that’s been going on between the two of you all these years? My sister and I may be perverts, but at least we can recognize homoerotic subtext when it’s dangled in front –”

 

Mairu grabs back the phone. “As we were saying! Just stick to the plan and everything will go as it should. Izaya-nii should have finished his calls to our friends about now, and if we’re right he should be making not-so-subtle attempts to right his supposed wrongs. If we’re lucky, he’ll get to make a fool of himself in front of his allies and partners in addition to everything else. So you can just sit back and relax and do whatever it is you do when you’re not busy tearing streets apart and hanging out with the weirdest and coolest people in town. Me and Kururi? We’ll just be out and about, acting like the normal girls we are, no worries! We’ll call if there are any sudden developments, but it’s safe to say our plan should come to fruition by tonight, tomorrow at the latest. I know nii-chan, and he always gets what he wants, no matter what convoluted way he'll use to get it. So whatever he does, at the end of the day he’ll probably confront you, either directly or through some ingenuous means that’ll get Yuhei-san’s supposedly smeared name cleared, while convincing you that he was innocent of all this from the start. When that happens, you’ll get your answer. Oh, we know you didn’t care about this from the beginning, we’re the ones who got you into it, don’t worry Shizuo-san, your integrity is all clear. Just think of yourself as being a pawn in our game. And hey, if you end up with an Orihara Izaya wrapped around your little finger, well, that’s nobody’s loss, is it?” Mairu rolls her eyes as her sister giggles.

 

“Anyway, no problem. We’re glad to be of service. And this was fun, wasn’t it, Shizuo-san? We should definitely do this more often, especially when our dearest older brother is being his usual annoying self. Okay, well talk to you later. And don’t sound so exasperated, our plan will work, just you wait!”

 

She hangs up then, looking pensively up, her twin watching her unblinkingly.

 

“You know, Kuru-nee, I still think we should’ve gone with faking his death.”

 

Kururi shook her head. “Too trite. Izaya-nii wouldn’t believe that for a moment. He’s got too much faith in Shizuo-san’s monstrous strength.”

 

They start walking, heading towards one of the plaza’s main walkways.

 

“Hmm. The marriage thing?”

 

“… I think you’ve been reading too many badly-written romance novels.”

 

Mairu rolls her eyes. “Kuru-nee, we’re in the process of _creating_ a badly-written romance novel, starring one of the most emotionally-constipated anti-heroes and his equally messed up counterpart with the glaring anger issues. Now all we’re missing is some spurned spouse who’s unwittingly kidnapped and an unplanned pregnancy.”

 

Kururi looks thoughtful. “I don’t think we can call nii-san an anti-hero, he really has no heroic traits about him.”

 

“Okay, true, but then again none of us really fit into the mold of conventional storytelling, do we? I mean the few of us here who aren’t part of some exclusive, supernatural club.”

 

“Do you think that’s why nii-san tries so hard? Because if he didn’t, he’d be overshadowed by all the much more colourful and memorable personalities around him?”

 

“Who knows, Kuru-nee, who knows. But if you and I manage fine enough without developing a raging narcissistic personality disorder, he really has no excuse, you know?” Mairu drapes an arm around her twin’s shoulder, nuzzling her ear affectionately. “At least we’re not so desperate to put ourselves into the narrative.”

 

Kururi hums in agreement, and looks up to the sky in silent contentment. She feels warm and light, the weight of her twin by her side, their bodies lost in a sea of passing conversation, backdropped with the occasional screeching tire and blaring horn. The light above their crossroads turns green, and they let the throng of people carry them on, away from the plaza behind them.

 

She looks over at her sister, and knows that they are thinking the same thing.

 

They smile, and move on.


End file.
